


Stretching From Your Feet (There are Shadows on the Doorstep)

by Aderam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Greek Myths, Domestic, Foreshadowing, Gen, Not Compliant with Season 3, Parenthetical Scenes, Pre-Hale Fire, Pre-Series, Teen Derek, The Hale Family, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Sunday School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aderam/pseuds/Aderam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Having parents who can tell when you’re lying is the worst,” James said with feeling. “Can you at least tell me if they’re still being gross?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Derek made a face. “I’m not trying to listen to that.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Come on, Derek,” James whined leaning towards his cousin imploringly. “Use your powers for good!”</i>
</p><p>Or</p><p>Working title: Teen Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stretching From Your Feet (There are Shadows on the Doorstep)

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic back in September shortly after I watched all of seasons 1 and 2 for the first time. It's taken me forever to finish. Naturally I manage to get it done right after the episode that solidly Josses it (Jeffs it?). So it's not Season 3 compliant at all. :S (Spoilers for season 1, mild spoilers for season 2.)
> 
> I've always loved werewolves and I just really wanted to know more about how a pack was supposed to work - before all the tragedy and crazy that is the show. And once I started thinking about it, all of the Hale family started jammering in my head and I just had to write my version of them. This was supposed to be a fluffy domestic piece, and then the foreshadowing got away from me. Still less angsty than the show though!
> 
> Betaed by the lovely M!

The alarm blared through the room again after far too short a time, its grating bleep burrowing through the weight of the pillow over Derek’s head and into his sensitive ears. He groaned unhappily and snaked an arm outside of his covers to blindly smack at the alarm’s off-switch. Without the alarm he could hear the sound of James’ light snores and more distantly the thumps and yips which were the all too familiar sounds of the twins wrestling somewhere downstairs. It was as good as silence; or at least as close as he was likely to get.

Derek slowly let the sounds of the house filter through to his sleepy mind. Most of the house was already awake and moving through their morning routines. Derek could hear the clattering of dishes in the kitchen and could smell coffee wafting up the stairs. If he didn’t get out of bed soon he’d be late for school, but his blankets were warm and comforting and that trumped any desire he had to be on time. He pulled the blanket tighter over his head and nuzzled down into his pillows, only vaguely aware of the sounds of his pack moving throughout the house.

Someone was in the shower on the third floor, and Derek could hear his mother’s confident footsteps in the master bedroom. His father was down in the kitchen frying eggs, humming over the pan. The twins were in the living room and he could hear them smacking into the pack’s heavy furniture while they wrestled. Jessica and Erin were eight and inexplicably blonde in the otherwise dark-haired Hale family. Somehow they had managed to convince all the adults in the family that they were perfect little princesses instead of the vicious rapscallions Derek knew they were. 

Cousins were the worst. 

This morning Jessica had the upper hand and Derek could hear the breath whoosh out of Erin’s lungs as Jessica crowed in triumph.

“It’s nearly eight o’clock,” their Aunt Anne said and it took Derek nearly a minute to realize that she was talking to the twins instead of one of the other adults. “Have you seen Derek or James yet?”

This time it was Erin who shrieked in delight before both hellions started racing for the stairs.

(The house is somehow still standing even though time and tragedy have taken their toll. The stairs are still fairly sound and Derek slinks up to the bedroom he shared with James as the dawn light starts gleaming through the damaged façade. The room’s gutted, barely anything left to show for fifteen years of occupation, and there are streaks of ash and soot on the water-damaged walls. It doesn’t smell like home anymore.)

“Shit,” Derek swore and groaned as he pulled his reluctant body out of bed and grabbed his towel from the hook on the back of the door as he stumbled into the hall. James was still blissfully snoring in his bed, cocooned in blankets, and Derek felt no desire to warn him as the twins reached the top of the staircase. James hadn’t even bothered to set his alarm, and they were his sisters, so he totally deserved what he was about to get. 

Derek firmly closed the bathroom door on the sound of his cousins yelling from his bedroom: two parts energetic and gleeful and one part irate teenager. He was going to have to shower quickly if he was going to have time to grab breakfast and get to school on time before James killed him.

~

“I hate you,” James said, flopping gracelessly into the seat next to Derek in first period English. His hair was sticking up at an even more outrageous angle than usual and he had a drip of melted peanut butter on the hem of his t-shirt. “You are my least favourite cousin,” he continued while the rest of the class filtered into their seats. “That was totally uncool.”

Derek rolled his eyes and James scowled at him and kicked his shin under the table.

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t wish my sisters on my worst enemy and you just threw me to the dogs without even a warning. That is not buddies.”

“My alarm had already gone off three times,” Derek pointed out exasperatedly while Ms. Munroe tried to bring the class to order.

“It’s not my fault that my ears aren’t as sensitive as yours,” James replied and flicked his cousin in the aforementioned ear to emphasize his point.

Derek flinched back but was prevented from retaliating by Ms. Munroe’s glare.

“Boys,” she said firmly, looking between the two of them with steely eyes. “I’m so glad that you’re ready to talk this morning. We’re starting today by reading aloud,” she announced to the class with a small smile. “Everyone open your books to the beginning of Act 3. James you can be Caesar, and Derek you can take Brutus. Does anyone want to volunteer for Cassius?” Ms. Munroe turned her attention to the rest of the class while she doled out the other parts.

“There is something really wrong with that woman,” James muttered as he flipped through the worn school copy of _Julius Caesar_ to the beginning of Act 3.

Ms. Munroe was by far the most frightening of all their teachers. She was about eighty billion years old with sharp blue eyes and white hair that was invariably tied back in a severe bun. She’d been teaching at Beacon Hills High for so long that she remembered when their parents were in high school, which meant that she already knew that Hales come in packs. Talia and Peter were the first set of Hale twins that Ms. Munroe had to deal with and if Grandpa Liam’s stories had any truth in them – Derek’s mother insisted there wasn’t, but Uncle Peter just laughed and refused to comment – they had been worse than Jessica and Erin which Derek hadn’t thought was possible.

James was nearly a year younger than Derek, but they had always been in the same grade because James was too smart for his own good and had a birthday that was only a few weeks past the cut-off date. But with Derek’s twin siblings, Diana and Henry, and James’ twin sisters coming down the pipeline there were more Hales than the Beacon Hills school system was frankly prepared to deal with. Twins, Derek knew, were more common among born werewolves than regular humans, but he didn’t think that anyone had bothered to do any scientific study into why. When he’d asked, Derek’s mother had just said she was grateful that they didn’t have litters of five or more cubs like regular wolves and Laura had made a horrified face at the very thought.

James, clearly enjoying his death scene too much, glared at Derek over the top of his copy of the play while he gave his last line, “Et tu Brute?”

(Peter’s voice is quiet, almost calm from where he stands at the end of the hospital hallway, a hint of hurt anger seeping into it: “You think I killed Laura on purpose?” he asks. “My own family?”

Derek snarls in response fangs elongating as his heart clenches in his chest.)

Yeah, Derek thought, slumping down into his seat. James wasn’t going to forget about Derek’s perceived role in this morning’s wake-up call any time soon.

From the front of the room Ms. Munroe looked almost amused.

~

James maintained his hostile silence through their shared classes that morning, and Derek was relieved to part ways at lunch. They didn’t share any afternoon classes and Derek was hoping for an uneventful afternoon to start the weekend off on the right foot.

Just before the bell went for last period Chemistry James’ girlfriend Danielle slipped onto the lab stool next to Derek and shot him a look.

“What the hell did you do?” she asked, her tone somewhere between exasperated and confused.

James had started dating Danielle about a week before the last full moon, and so far he’d been trying to keep her away from his large and interfering family. Uncle Peter and Laura had taken this as a challenge, and as a result the two of them had spent the majority of Laura’s weekend home from college badgering James about her when they weren’t occupied with the moon.

Somehow Derek, who’d been in the same class as Danielle and James since third grade, ended up caught in the middle. At home Laura and Peter would try to circumvent James by asking Derek about the infamous girlfriend, while at school Danielle quizzed him about their family and why James thought they were all insane. Generally Derek answered what he could of Danielle’s questions without discussing werewolves. He was more circumspect with Laura, trying not to give her too much ammunition for teasing, and attempted to avoid telling Peter anything at all.

(“If you know something just give me a sign. Is it one of us?” Derek pauses, searching his uncle’s face for any sign of recognition. He doesn’t have much hope but he’s running out of options and the longer he waits the worse things get. Peter’s face remains motionless, not even moving enough to blink. “Someone else make it out of the fire? Just give me anything. Blink! Raise a finger! Just anything!” Derek’s frustration boils over and he reaches out to shake Peter by the shoulders. “Say something!”

“Let him go!” The duty nurse interrupts him, radiating anger and disapproval. “You think after six years of this, yelling at him will get you a response?”)

“What do you mean?” Derek asked Danielle in return. He watched the other students filing into the classroom instead of meeting her eyes.

“I am in your History class,” she pointed out, raising an imperious eyebrow. “ James spent all morning actively pretending you didn’t exist. Therefore he thinks you’ve done something wrong.”

Derek looked sideways at her. “And you think I didn’t do something wrong?”

“No,” Danielle said. “I know you did something. But I’m also sure that it’s stupid, because he’s not really mad.”

“He didn’t talk to me all morning,” Derek protested.

“Yeah, but it’s, you know – James,” she replied, gesturing with her hands as if to illustrate the weirdness of Derek’s cousin.

Unfortunately Derek understood her point perfectly. He nodded reluctantly.

“So,” she pressed while Mr. Harris checked his watch. “What did you do?”

“I let his sisters wake him up this morning,” Derek admitted.

“So?”

“One of these days,” Derek said while the bell rang for the start of class, “James is going to let you meet his sisters and then you’ll understand.”

Danielle just rolled her eyes as Mr. Harris shut the classroom door and called everyone to attention.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you Hales,” she muttered under her breath.

~

Derek got home from his Saturday shift at the coffee shop exhausted and reeking of burnt grounds. He could hear the twins playing in the front yard with his sister Diana and a least a couple other kids, but Aunt Viv was baking a cherry pie and he was distracted by the smell as he turned his bike around the corner of the lane towards the Hale house.

Suddenly there were three kids perilously close to his front tire. Derek caught a glimpse of tangled limbs and a streak of long blonde hair, while Diana yelled something in their direction with all the authority of a twelve-year-old. Derek swerved at the last minute, braking hard into one of the bushes that lined the laneway instead of the pile of children with a death wish. The bush was pointy and he groaned on impact while the branches tangled around his bike and limbs.

There was nervous giggling coming from the pile of kids behind him, but Diana was already busy berating them while Derek swore under his breath and started pulling himself out of the pointy bush.

“What were you idiots thinking?” Diana asked, scowling at the offending children. 

Erin was already back on her feet having succeeded in tackling both dark-haired boys, who remained tangled together in a heap. Jessica joined them, slinking up behind the unruly group, an innocent look on her face that Derek didn’t believe for a second. 

Diana crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unimpressed while she glared at the younger kids. “Watch where you’re going,” she continued. “You could have killed Derek!”

Derek rolled his eyes as he pulled the bike out of the bush – there were a couple of twigs caught in the spokes but it would live – and looked over to check on the two boys. He was in no way surprised to see the Stilinski kid and his wheezing shadow, both of whom had been sneaking into the woods around the Hale property since they were old enough to get away from their parents. Derek was pretty sure his mother had their parents on speed dial.

Jessica smirked from behind Diana, glad not to be in trouble for once. In contrast the two boys were smiling up at Diana, although the wheezy one sounded like he could use his inhaler. Before Derek could say anything though the Stilinski kid reached into his friend’s pocket, pulled out the puffer and shoved it into the other boy’s hands.

“Come on Scott!” he said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We’ll get ‘em this time!”

“Apologise to Derek first!” Diana insisted, hands on her hips in unconscious imitation of her Alpha mother. Sometimes Derek thought Diana forgot that she wasn’t a wolf and would never get the chance to be Alpha herself.

“Whatever,” Erin replied, “Derek’s fine.”

Derek was, but he saw no reason for her to be rude about it. Erin ignored his glower and turned to the boys who were still sitting in the laneway, Scott puffing happily on his inhaler.

“Count to twenty suckers!” she exclaimed before grabbing her twin’s hand and racing off to the other end of the yard.

“Least favourite cousins!” Derek yelled after them while Diana glowered at them in solidarity.

The Stilinski kid jumped to his feet as Scott took his final inhale, his cheeks puffed out with his held breath while he shoved the inhaler back in his pocket. “Sorry Derek,” he said smiling up at him. “Don’t worry we’ll totally get them back for you.”

Derek snorted, but didn’t venture his opinion on the chances of two human boys against a couple of werewolf cubs. The kid didn’t seem discouraged in any case.

“Ready Scott?” he asked, reaching down a hand to pull the other boy to his feet.

“But we haven’t counted to twenty yet,” Scott replied, sounding much better.

“Who cares?” Diana said, still glaring after her cousins. “You go left and I’ll go right,” she ordered and didn’t stop to check if they would follow.

The two boys exchanged a smile before grinning at Derek and noisily taking off to the left.

(There’s an inhaler in the woods. Derek can smell it: the acrid tang of ventolin overlapping the round chemical scent of the plastic. He’s just barely arrived back on the west coast and he’s still reeling from the plane and the jetlag and being here at all. He pockets the inhaler and thinks briefly of a pair of small boys running through the preserve. The scent of the teenager who dropped the inhaler is already fading, dispersed by the breeze and the passage of other animals. The smell of Laura’s blood, on the other hand, is still strong and Derek races through the still familiar trees towards his Alpha.)

Derek shook his head behind them and started walking his bike towards the front porch. Diana’s twin Henry was sitting on the porch swing, feet up on the bench beside him and a book resting open on his knees. Derek dropped his bike next to the path and took the steps two at a time up to the porch, tripping slightly on the top step.

Henry waved silently in his direction without looking up from his book and Derek snorted before collapsing onto the bench next to him. The bench swung a few feet under Derek’s added weight and Henry glared half-heartedly at his older brother from under his dark curls.

There was a shout and several joyful yelps from the trees to their left and both Hale boys looked in that direction but nobody tumbled into view. Henry went back to his book and Derek slumped further down on the bench letting gravity take over.

Henry was one of the easiest Hales to be around. He was almost freakishly quiet to the point that his and Diana’s first grade teacher had suggested that he get tested to see if there was anything wrong with his voice. But unlike his twin, Henry was a werewolf and there had never been anything wrong with his health. He just lived with a large and overly loud family and never saw much point in adding to the noise. Derek could relate, even without a bossy twin sister shadowing him everywhere.

Henry smiled quietly to himself while he turned the page and Derek lazily reached out a hand to smack lightly at one of his brother’s shins.

“What’cha reading?” he asked, watching the tree line for any sign of the other kids returning.

Henry sighed at the interruption but lifted the cover of his book off his knees so Derek could see it. “The Dark is Rising,” he said simply before going back to his book with a small smile. It was moments like this that let Derek know Henry liked him best.

There was a slight chill to the late afternoon air, an early warning of the cooler nights of October just around the corner. Derek could smell Aunt Viv’s cherry pie, stronger now that he was closer to the source, and he could still hear the kids playing their bastardized version of tag in the forest nearby, although far away from the laneway and unsuspecting cyclists at least.

“Tell me that pie is for dinner tonight,” Derek said, closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale.

Henry just smirked into his book.

Derek was just starting to doze off when Henry kicked him gently in the side. He rolled his head over lazily and raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“You stink,” Henry said, wrinkling his nose exaggeratedly.

“So would you if you’d been in a coffee shop all day,” Derek pointed out without moving.

Henry rolled his eyes. “Shower,” he said, his tone indicating that it was not much of a suggestion. It was possible that Derek was the only one who hadn’t inherited the bossy Hale gene.

(Derek’s eyes glow red as he orders Isaac to back down with a wordless snarl. Isaac cowers back away from Derek and Stiles, submitting to Derek’s superior force.

“How’d you do that?” Stiles asks his heartbeat actually speeding up as his eyes dart frantically between Isaac, the unconscious hunter, and Derek.

“I’m the Alpha,” Derek responds with faked confidence.)

Derek rolled his eyes back at his brother but hauled himself off the bench, letting it swing with his movement. Henry didn’t bother steadying himself or the bench, simply smirking as the bench swung before turning back to his book. Derek shouldered his way through the screen door and thumped pointedly up the stairs.

~

By the time Derek came downstairs the pie was out of the oven and it made his mouth water as he wandered, hair still damp, into the kitchen. Uncle Peter was chopping a large pile of assorted vegetables for dinner at the counter that divided the kitchen from the dining room and there were two packages of chicken breasts next to him waiting for the same treatment. Across from him Aunt Viv was seated in one of the barstools, guarding the pie and keeping her husband company at the same time.

“Derek,” Peter said, smiling over his shoulder at his nephew while he chopped in time with the classic rock playing over their stereo system. “How was the coffee shop?”

“It was alright,” Derek shrugged noncommittally as he slumped over to the fridge and pulled out the jug of milk. “That pie for tonight?” he asked trying to feign indifference while grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

Aunt Viv’s smirk said that he hadn’t succeeded. “I hadn’t decided yet,” she answered taking a sip of her red wine. “Maybe we should save it for later.”

Derek sighed uncapping the milk and filling his glass. He downed about half the glass in one go and refilled it before putting the cap back on the jug and putting it back in the fridge.

“Wouldn’t really go with stir fry anyway,” Peter pointed out because his family was filled with cruel people who liked to see him suffer.

Derek rolled his eyes and changed the subject knowing better than to try and get a straight answer out of either of them. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Here and there,” Peter replied vaguely, smiling evilly.

Viv huffed a laugh but actually answered, gesturing with her wine glass, “Your mother is writing in her office, and I think your Dad and Ian are still at work. Everyone else is home, somewhere. You ran into the kids didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Derek admitted, shrugging. If he listened he could still hear them all outside. With the exception of Henry, none of them were particularly quiet.

“If you find James can you remind him that he’s supposed to be helping me with dinner?” Peter asked looking up from the carrots.

“Sure,” Derek drawled taking another long appreciative sniff of the pie.

A new song started over the stereo and Peter grinned mischievously over the counter at his wife as [Meat Loaf’s voice](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRwJud6AUPQ) filled the kitchen and Peter spoke along with the words.

“On a hot summer night,” he started putting down his knife and stalking around the counter without taking his eyes off of Viv, “would you offer your throat,” he continued, Viv rolled her eyes knowing exactly where this was headed, “to the wolf with the red roses?”

“You do realize that I’ve already answered that question,” Viv said over the dialogue of the song’s intro, but she put her wineglass down and turned to face Peter’s approach.

“Yes,” Peter said in time with Meat Loaf, smirking.

“I asked for the bite long before I met you,” she pointed out.

(“The bite is a gift, Scott,” Derek grits out between his teeth.)

“Yes,” he continued, following the dialogue even though Viv wasn’t playing along.

“You realize that you smell like carrots?” Viv continued taking his hand when he extended it.

“Yes,” he replied, laughing and dragging her into the main part of the kitchen.

Faced with the prospect of watching his Aunt and Uncle dancing in the kitchen – to a Meat Loaf song no less - Derek decided that flight was the better part of valour, grabbed his milk and left the kitchen before he could be mentally scarred by the adults in his life. Their voices followed him down the hall and he cursed his werewolf senses.

James was, unsurprisingly, in the TV room watching The Wrath of Khan while his Algebra notes languished on the table in front of him. Derek hadn’t exactly been looking for him so much as moving away from the kitchen, but he dropped onto the couch next to his cousin, gratefully using the dialogue on the TV to help block out Peter’s teasing accusation – “I bet you say that to all the boys.” – and even worse: Aunt Viv’s giggles.

James had spent most of Friday evening at Danielle’s place, and by Saturday morning he’d dropped his silent treatment of Derek. Derek wasn’t sure if she’d talked to him or if being allowed to sleep in that morning undisturbed had done the trick, but Derek was happy. James was always more fun as an ally than an enemy.

“Your parents are flirting in the kitchen again,” Derek told James without moving his head from the screen, his disapproval clear.

(Peter’s still got his old playlists saved to the laptop along with the Hale family archives. He plays them while researching the Kanima and sings along absently through CCR’s _Bad Moon Rising_ and Warren Zevon howling out _Werewolves of London_. But he stays eerily silent through the intro to _You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth_ , seeming almost to hold his breath until Meat Loaf transitions into the song.

The next track is [The Who, _Behind Blue Eyes ___](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfuWXRZe9yA), and Derek groans, “Can we please listen to something else?”

Peter smirks, blue eyes twinkling, and starts singing along, “My love is vengeance, that’s never free...”)

“Ugh,” James agreed with disgust. “Why do they have to be so gross?”

Derek shrugged and watched as the Enterprise shot to warp on the screen.

“I’m supposed to remind you that you’re supposed to be helping with dinner tonight,” Derek muttered sinking further into the couch.

“Can’t we pretend that you forgot to tell me?”

Derek raised a skeptical eyebrow at his cousin who just groaned in response.

“Having parents who can tell when you’re lying is the worst,” James said with feeling. “Can you at least tell me if they’re still being gross?”

Derek made a face. “I’m not trying to listen to that.”

“Come on, Derek,” James whined leaning towards his cousin imploringly. “Use your powers for good!”

“No,” Derek insisted much to James’ disappointment. “But it was that Meat Loaf song, so the most embarrassing part is over by now. You should be safe.”

James smacked Derek on the arm in retaliation but stood up anyway making a face. “’Should’ is so comforting to me,” he muttered as he moved reluctantly to the door.

Derek ignored him and focused back on the TV. He zoned out to the familiar sound of Dr. McCoy’s sarcasm and didn’t move until Henry came down to herd him to the dining room for supper.

~

“DER-EK!” Diana screeched unnecessarily loudly. Fully half the house away from his younger sister Derek winced, cursing his sensitive ears. “LAURA’S ON THE PHONE!”

Derek groaned at that redundant information. Laura had been talking to their mother for at least the last half hour already and while Derek hadn’t exactly been listening to their conversation he could hear quite clearly that it was happening. Exhibit A: sensitive ears.

Without bothering to yell back – it wouldn’t have the desired effect on Diana’s human ears anyway – Derek rolled off his bed leaving his Chemistry reading behind, and straightened at the last moment before heading downstairs at something approaching a controlled fall.

Diana was still talking with Laura when Derek got to the living room and Derek could easily hear her tinny laughter through their old cordless phone. Aunt Viv had been threatening to replace the old thing for years because of the poor – by werewolf standards – sound quality of the speakers, but since all the adults had better quality cell phones she still hadn’t gotten around to it.

Diana turned around and watched Derek come through the door. “He’s finally here,” she informed their sister. “Love you Laura! Come home soon!

“Your turn!” she added to Derek, thrusting the handset at him while Laura said goodbye. She didn’t wait for Derek to respond and instead grinned before tearing off into the kitchen.

Derek fumbled the phone and muttered a greeting as he put it up to his ear.

Laura laughed at him, the poor quality of the speaker making her sound even further away than Portland. “Wonder Woman’s got some lungs on her, huh?”

Derek grunted in agreement, moving back upstairs at a more sedate pace. James had gone back to his girlfriend’s house after dinner, so for the moment he had their room to himself.

“’Hi Laura!’” Laura said, her voice slipping down a few registers into a highly inaccurate imitation of him. “’Bestest sister mine. How’s college? My life is so bereft without you!’”

Derek dropped back onto his bed, shoving his Chem text aside at the last minute so it wouldn’t jab him in the side and sighed down the line at his sister. “You were here just last week for the full moon,” he pointed out.

“Awww, Cricket, I hadn’t realized you’d been counting the days,” Laura replied. “But speaking of the full moon, were you listening to Mom and I just now?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I do actually have more important things to do than eavesdrop on your conversations,” he said.

(The school is a jumble of smells and sounds that Derek is having a hard time separating out from the pain of the wolfsbane seeping up his arm. Scott. He needs to find Scott. Needs to heal. Needs pack.

“Scott’s coming over? Tonight?” It’s a girl’s voice and Derek zeroes in on her conversation. He needs to find Scott.

“We’re just studying together.”)

“You totally don’t,” Laura snorted in response. “But I’m admiring your respect for my privacy right now, D.”

“Right,” Derek replied sardonically. “That’s it exactly. What was I supposed to be listening to?”

“Well,” Laura drawled down the phone line, “the next full moon is on a Thursday, and one of my prof’s has been inconsiderate enough to schedule a midterm for that Friday, so I can’t make it home this time.”

Derek frowned. Even though he would never admit it to his older sister he did miss her. He was used to being an older brother, but with Laura gone he was the oldest and he wasn’t really sure how to fill that role. His sister never seemed to need to put any effort into it whether she was being bossy and annoying or actually nice for a change.

“Anyway, Mom’s all worried because it’ll be my first full moon away from the pack,” Laura continued, her nonchalance a little too forced to be genuine. “Even though I told her I’d be fine, she thinks someone should come stay with me, but none of the adults can come.”

Derek quickly thought over the adult members of the pack. Aunt Anne and their father were too human to be helpful, Grandpa Liam too old and blind, Ian would be busy with the garage, Uncle Peter and Aunt Viv probably had some lawyerly things to do, and there was no way the Alpha could leave the pack and their territory on the full moon.

“So she and I were thinking” – ‘our Alpha ordered’ Derek mentally translated – “that you could come and stay with me for a few days. You could come up on Wednesday, we could run together for the moon, and I could show you around the Lewis and Clark campus and Portland on the weekend. You and me against the moon. What’d’ya think?”

Derek thought about it for a second. Missing school, seeing Portland, and mostly importantly hanging out with Laura and her new college friends? What wasn’t to like?

(It’s Friday night. Laura and Derek are both tired out from the full moon the night before, but it hadn’t stopped them from joining in the post-exam party her friends hosted in the next dorm over. Buzzing from the effects of so many people and enough illicit booze that they would have been wasted if they hadn’t been wolves, they bunk down back in Laura’s dorm room while the party, and Laura’s roommate along with it, is still raging.

It’s nearing one am and Derek is almost asleep on the air mattress when Laura stiffens abruptly.

“What...” Derek starts to ask and then he feels it too: the distant mental touch of their mother, their Alpha.

There aren’t any words, but it feels like shock and it smells like burning and death. Laura’s eyes are wide and burning red in the darkness.)

“Sounds good to me,” Derek replied, trying to match Laura’s nonchalance. But he was grinning so he probably didn’t fool her anyway even though she couldn’t see it through the phone line. “I can’t wait to tell your friends how lame you are.”

“Listen Derek,” Laura replied sternly. Derek couldn’t take her seriously though, because he could hear the relief in her voice. “You are my nerd brother. I have so many more embarrassing stories to tell about you than you do about me. And don’t think for a minute I’ll hesitate to tell them if you get out of line.”

Derek laughed and changed the subject, steering their conversation back to their more usual subjects: annoying cousins, baseball, and whether the guidance counsellor used Mr. Harris’ Chemistry classes as punishment for students who weren’t taking her seriously.

~

Now that Laura was off at college Derek was the oldest of the wolf children, which as far as he could tell meant that it was his turn to be picked on during training. Today was an exercise in tracking for the young wolves, a fairly common drill. His mother sent the humans of the pack as well as the adult wolves into the preserve to lay down as many scent trails as possible before sending them out to find specific people. As the youngest Jessica and Erin were sent to track their parents, one each in opposite directions, with whose scents they would be most familiar. Henry was tasked with finding James, who was being put through his paces running around the preserve along with a rotating assortment of the pack in order to further confuse his scent.

Derek was already an accomplished tracker and this morning when his mother had announced the day’s training he’d been looking forward to a relatively easy day in the woods. He could still feel phantom pains from his sparring session with Ian the week before. After she’d started the younger wolves on their tasks, his mother turned to Derek with a wicked grin.

“Something a little different for you this week, Derek,” she said, pulling a short length of dark cloth from her pocket. She indicated for him to kneel and he slipped to his knees before his Alpha in easy submission. “You have a good nose, Cricket.” She tied the cloth firmly over his eyes, brushing a hand through his hair and gently freeing his ears from under the edge of the blindfold. Derek frowned in confusion, but didn’t object. “Go and find your father.”

“How am I supposed to track him if I can’t see?” he asked, inhaling deeply and already starting to focus on the green and spicy scent his father always brought home from the flower shop.

“Do you use your eyes to track?” his Alpha asked backing away.

(The arrow doesn’t hit him and Derek has a moment to think gratefully that they missed before the bright light sears into his retinas and _he can’t see_.)

Derek rose slightly unsteadily to his feet. “No,” he said and took a step away from the house to try and catch a more recent scent. He nearly tripped on the uneven ground and caught a swear between his teeth before he could be reprimanded. “But I’d hoped to use them to avoid falling into a ditch,” he muttered.

His mother laughed at him, the sound now coming from much closer to the tree-line even though he hadn’t heard her move after the first steps away from him.

“I’ve only taken away one of your senses, Cricket,” she said and there was a slight reprimand under her amusement. “Four should be sufficient to keep you out of a ditch, don’t you think?”

Derek huffed out a sigh and squared his shoulders casting about to find his father’s trail.

In the end he only fell into a ditch once, but since his father was gathering herbs at the bottom of it he refused to admit that he hadn’t done it on purpose.

All the Hale kids were still sweaty and tired although most of the day’s dirt had been scrubbed off by the time they filtered into the living room for what James had always referred to as Werewolf Sunday School. It was edging towards late afternoon and the sun streamed in the west-facing windows still feeling too bright for Derek’s no-longer-blindfolded eyes. Derek collapsed into the corner of the couch and before he had any time to think Diana plastered herself to his side. Erin and Jessica bounced onto the other side of the couch, the weight of their impact jolting through the long-suffering springs while Henry settled quietly on the floor next to Derek’s knees. James smirked from where he’d claimed one of the old wing-back chairs. He had already changed out of the wet jeans he’d been wearing earlier – it wasn’t easy to get a wolf off your scent, and James had been forced through several streams in the attempt – but the other teenager still looked cold. Derek rolled his eyes at his cousin and stretched an arm along the back of the couch behind Diana, his younger sister warm at his side. Derek was perfectly comfortable.

Most of the adults had gathered in the kitchen, drinking coffee and starting to prepare dinner, but Aunt Anne was already seated cross-legged at the coffee table with a notebook and a digital recorder ready in front of her. Anne had only just finished her PhD in Anthropology and her latest project, before starting the search for gainful employment, was to document the Hale family oral tradition. She, Derek’s mother and Peter had also been working to organize and digitize the family archives with some occasional help from Henry. That she couldn’t publish her findings in academic journals was one of Aunt Anne’s greatest pet peeves. 

Ian was leaning in the doorway with a beer hanging from his fingers. He was still a newcomer to the pack even after nearly four years and it showed in how he held himself apart, hovering between the adults in the kitchen and the kids on the couch. Yet here he was, ready to learn the legends of his new pack.

(“What is that?” Isaac asks, leaning down to trace a finger across the symbol inside the lid of the chest.

“It’s a triskele,” Boyd answers before Derek can. He allows the warmth to seep back into his chest at his Beta’s words and listens with pride as Boyd continues with a shrug. “Spirals mean different things: past, present, future; mother, father, child.”

“Do you know what it means to me?” Derek asks, eyebrow raised as he gestures back toward the chest.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega?” Boyd replies, his brow furrows in uncertainty while his heart continues its confident beat.

Derek can feel the spirals etched into his shoulder blades as he thinks, ‘They’re learning. It’s a start,’ and says, “That’s right.”)

Grandpa Liam sat calmly in the wing-back across from James, his hands wrapped around a still steaming mug of coffee and his blind gaze unfocused but still resting proprietarily in the direction of his pack. Derek had been three and most of his cousins hadn’t even been born when Grandpa Liam had given up his position as the pack’s Alpha because of his deteriorating eyesight. Derek couldn’t really remember what the challenge was like, but he knew that Grandpa Liam still saw the pack as his even though Derek’s mother was now the Alpha. On full moons his eyes shone pink through the murky whiteness of his lenses.

Grandpa Liam deftly placed his coffee cup on the end table next to his chair and leaned forward in his seat resting his hands one over the other on the head of his cane. He was from the old school of storytelling and had taken to the traditional role of the blind bard with gusto, his movements and words steeped with ritual. Aunt Anne reached out and turned on her digital recorder and on the other end of the couch from Derek the demon twins settled down without their grandfather having to say a word.

“This is a story of our ancestors,” Grandpa Liam said, his voice deeper and more sonorous than usual. Even the low buzz of conversation from the kitchen seemed to quiet in anticipation.

“Go on,” his audience chorused the traditional response.

“It is from long ago,” he continued and Derek allowed his voice to flow over him. “Long before the packs split, and long before we came to this territory. This is a story about Lykaion son of Pelasgos.”

“Go on.”

“Lykaion was the Alpha of a great pack in Arcadia. He had fifty children and was well known across Greece for his hospitality. But Lykaion was arrogant and often allowed his cleverness to overrule his heart. On the eve of the Summer Solstice Festival a man arrived at the house of Lykaion and claimed to be the god Zeus.

“Lykaion welcomed him into his home and offered him the same hospitality he extended to other travellers for the festival. But he did not believe that the man was a god.”

“Go on.”

“During the festival they made sacrifices to the gods. And the pack as well as their guests heaped praise on the man who claimed to be Zeus. Lykaion, angry at the man’s perceived deception and his pack’s easy acceptance of it, confronted the man. He mixed human remains with the sacrifice of the white bull and bade the man to eat the gift they had provided for him. Lykaion knew that if the man were truly a god he would know what Lykaion had done. And in this way he hoped to reveal the man as a fraud.”

“Go on.”

“The man gratefully accepted the offering and bade Lykaion to join him in feasting on the sacrifice. Believing that the man was falling into his trap, Lykaion agreed, and the two men reached together for the burnt entrails. The man’s hand was steady, but Lykaion could not tell which parts were from the bull and which were the human remains he’d planted. With a quick prayer that the gods guide his hand, he reached blindly into the entrails. Keen to reveal the man as a fraud, Lykaion and the man ate of the entrails at the same time.”

“Go on.”

“As the flesh touched their lips Lykaion’s laugh of victory transformed into a howl of despair. Before him, the man whom he had been so certain was a fraud had revealed himself as the god Zeus, standing before the pack with thunderbolts crackling in his beard. Lykaion sank to his knees before his god, realizing his mistake.

“’You are an arrogant Alpha,’ Zeus declared. ‘Why did you not trust in me? In your pack?’

“Lykaion tried to answer, but he had already transformed into a wolf and a howl was the only thing that passed his lips.

“’You tried to feed me human flesh,’ Zeus continued, ‘as if I were a base animal. You succeeded only in feeding on it yourself. And in so doing you have revealed your true nature.’”

“Go on.”

“And with these words Zeus cursed Lykaion, tying him to his wolf form for nine years and banished him from Arcadia.

“‘You acted as a beast in your human form,’ Zeus declared. ‘Now you will learn what it is to be a human in the form of a beast.’

“With his lightning bolts Zeus forced Lykaion to run down the mountain and to swim across the Arcadian Lake out of the pack’s territory. And as Lykaion swam across the water Zeus called after him.”

(Derek watches Jackson as he leaves the old Hale house. The new Alpha power is still sizzling under his skin and he can still taste Jackson’s blood between his fangs.

Jackson’s path through the preserve is erratic, seemingly without direction, and Derek follows at a distance, still cautious of hunters. When he reaches the lake, Jackson lets out a whoop of laughter and dives in instead of finding his way around.

Derek watches Jackson slide through the water with ease and he wonders if he made the right decision. His skin itches and he slinks back to the house and suppresses a howl.)

“’You may return in nine years,’ Zeus proclaimed. ‘And when you swim back across the lake you will take the form of your heart. If you have reclaimed the heart of a man you will return to your human form. But if you still possess the heart of a beast, a beast you will remain until the end of your days.’

“And that is the story of Lykaion of Arcadia,” Grandpa Liam finished, sliding back in his chair and reaching once again for his coffee.

“May it be remembered,” his audience chorused.

“But what happened to Lykaion?” Diana asked almost before they’d finished the traditional response. She sat up from Derek’s side nearly vibrating with questions about what she considered an unsatisfactory end to the story.

Grandpa Liam smiled in her general direction, “Some say he learned about humanity from the wolf, and when he swam home across the lake he was returned to his human form and served under his pack’s new Alpha for the rest of his days. Others say that he found solace among the wolves in neighbouring territories and that he never returned to Arcadia or to his human form.” He sighed and took another sip of coffee before continuing. “Still others suggest that he embraced the beast and became vicious and incapable of reason. He began to attack his pack and his daughter, who had taken over as Alpha, was forced to kill him to ensure the safety of her people. What do you think should have happened?”

Diana sank back against Derek as their grandfather enumerated Lykaion’s different possible endings, her eyes growing big. “I don’t know,” she replied in a small voice.

“What I want to know,” James said, leaning forward in his chair, ready as always to begin discussion on the latest parable, “is where did he get the human remains in the first place?” He spread his arms to further emphasize his point. “What kind of person has some bodies lying around ready to try tricking a god-impersonator?”

From the kitchen Derek could hear Uncle Peter laughing at James’ comment.

~

When Ashley had asked in third period, Derek hadn’t been able to come up with a good reason why he couldn’t take her shift at the coffee shop that night. She had pouted in the self-confident way of popular, attractive girls who know what that does to the teenage male mind; hand on her hip and impressive chest thrust forward. Derek could feel his ears turning red and had muttered an agreement. Ashley had smiled, thanked him, and went back to her friends without a second thought.

Now, settling his backpack more comfortably on his back while he unlocked his bike, Derek thought longingly of the half-finished paperback of _Dune Messiah_ on his bed-side table. He had just over an hour before he had to be at the coffee shop, which wasn’t quite enough time to make heading back to the Hale house worth it. Derek pulled a left out of the school parking lot towards downtown instead of the right turn that would take him home. His father’s flower shop was on Beacon Hills’ main drag not far from the coffee shop, so Derek locked his bike to a tree near the entrance and shouldered his way through the door.

“Hey, D,” his father said, glancing up from a catalogue he was perusing at the counter when the bell over the door sounded. “What’s up?”

Derek slumped into the shop and leaned on the counter facing his dad. He slid his backpack off his shoulder and dumped it on the floor at his feet.

“Not much,” Derek said, shrugging. “I’m taking another shift for Ashley tonight.”

His dad raised an eyebrow. “Again?” he asked. “How many shifts is that this month?”

“A few,” Derek muttered. Even though his father couldn’t tell when he was lying, Derek had never been able to deceive him.

“Has she ever taken a shift for you?” his dad asked, leveling an unimpressed look at Derek.

“No,” Derek admitted, blushing. “But I’ve never asked her to.”

His father sighed. “I just don’t want anyone taking advantage of you, D.”

(“I love how much you hate me,” she says, her voice firm and slightly breathy from her laughter.

Derek grits his teeth, tension and rage roiling through his stomach. She’s so close that her scent is coating his nose and he honestly has no idea how he’d once found her attractive.

“Remember how this felt?” she asks consideringly, maintaining eye contact as she slinks down his chest. She steadies herself with fingers tucked into the belt loops of his jeans and licks up his abs.

It’s revolting and Derek lashes out as much as he can with the manacles holding him in place, teeth and claws straining against the electric current. She doesn’t even flinch and Derek thinks it would serve her right if he puked in her face.)

“It’s okay, Dad,” Derek assured. “It’s not like that.”

His father’s eyebrows rose again, skeptical.

“Okay,” he admitted. “It probably is from her side. But I’m not just doing it for her attention or anything dumb like that. She’s pretty, but she’s kinda boring,” Derek shrugged and his dad chuckled. “I don’t mind taking an extra shift every now and again. It’s extra cash.”

“Alright,” his father allowed. “When do you have to be at work?”

Derek glanced down at his watch. “About forty-five minutes,” he said.

“Well, I’ve already finished all of today’s bouquets,” his dad said, taking another quick look around the shop as if to confirm that there wasn’t anything he was forgetting. “Pull up a chair. I’ve got a catalogue full of fertilizer and seeds. How will we handle the excitement?”

Derek smiled and joined his dad behind the counter.

~

Derek looked up from the cash register as the bell over the door announced the arrival of another customer. She was cute, Derek noticed, probably college age and he hadn’t seen her around town before. She tucked her long blond hair behind her ear with one hand and looked him over assessingly as she approached the counter.

Derek was not used to this kind of attention. Just last year he’d been one of the shortest guys in his class, and even high school students had long enough memories that he was still the small quiet kid in their collective subconscious despite his new height and broadening shoulders. 

He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as her gaze locked with his. She smiled. And it was a wicked grin that transformed her face from merely cute to beautiful. Derek wondered what he had done to catch her attention.

“Hi,” she said holding out her hand and he automatically moved to shake it. Her hand was cool, strong and slightly callused, and he was all too aware that his own was sweating. “I’m Kate, and I just moved here.” She nodded at the menu board without letting go of his hand. “What would you recommend?”

(He hates coffee. It’s bitter and heavy and makes him feel jittery despite his werewolf metabolism. He’ll never admit it but he’s secretly pleased that the old coffee shop he worked at got shut down after a Starbucks moved in down the street. 

Erica complains bitterly about latte prices until Derek buys the cheapest espresso maker he can find. It’s the only piece of new technology in the train depot and he’s the only one who knows how to use it properly. Erica smiles and there’s vanilla flavoured foam on her red upper lip.)

Derek lowered his eyes from the beautiful blonde, looking instead at where her fingers were still wrapped around his. He shifted nervously from foot to foot and tried to find his words.

“Well,” Derek said awkwardly, “I suppose that depends what you’re looking for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Honest, I wrote the whole Lykaion scene before I knew Jeff was going to use that myth in the actual show. It's a pretty standard myth, but it was still super weird when I was watching 3.08 and it came up. The story that Grandpa Liam tells is adapted for werewolfiness, so it is not the same as the original myth (nor is the version Jeff used though). I used the Greek-style transliteration of his name because I'm like that, but the Latin version, Lycaon, is generally more common (I blame Ovid). I changed his 50 sons to 50 children because screw the patriarchy. And Greeks didn't really do Solstice celebrations (except in the ways that everyone generally had some festivals around that time), but I have thoughts and opinions about werewolf religion and I figure it's tied a lot to the movements of the moon and sun. If you're interested keriarentikai on Tumblr has a cool post on [how Jeff used the Lykaion myth in the show](http://keriarentikai.tumblr.com/post/56297087669/gerards-version-of-the-myth-of-lycaon-both-gerard-and), which gives some good info on the original myth too.
> 
> The songs I mentioned on Peter's werewolf playlist are:  
> [You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRwJud6AUPQ) by Meat Loaf  
> [Behind Blue Eyes](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfuWXRZe9yA) by The Who  
> [Bad Moon Rising](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BmEGm-mraE) by Creedence Clearwater Revival  
> [Werewolves of London](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhSc8qVMjKM) by Warren Zevon
> 
> I was greatly influenced in my interpretation of werewolf packs by Tanya Huff's book _Blood Trail_ , in which Vicky Nelson helps a pack who own a sheep farm north of London Ontario. I highly recommend the whole Blood and Smoke series, but that one is still my favourite.
> 
> I'm [aderam](http://aderam.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Come and chat with me about the Hale Family! And Werewolves!


End file.
